“I’m a one-issue voter, and it’s Bitcoin,” yells Jonathan Martin, a former NFL offensive lineman and current MBA student at the Wharton School, his voice rising above the pounding dance music of a Philadelphia nightclub. It’s a gray Monday evening in September, and in a couple hours, many Philadelphians will turn their attention to the Eagles game. But for now, the party is here, with hundreds of crypto acolytes packed into a venue called Vinyl, drinking beer and espresso martinis, eating cheesesteaks, and enjoying a performance by the indie pop star Lauv—all as part of a well-funded effort to make cryptocurrency a top issue in this election year.
It’s an uphill battle. Crypto failed to appear in recent polls from Pew and Gallup which asked respondents to list the most important issues to Americans. A recent Federal Reserve survey found that only about 7% of Americans owned or used crypto in 2023. And 69% of Americans polled in swing states this spring still held a negative view of crypto just a couple years removed from the crash-and-burn scandal of FTX’s Sam Bankman-Fried.
But crypto bigwigs are betting that money and passion can overcome all this. So far the industry has poured $119 million into elections across the U.S. in 2024, accounting for nearly half of all corporate political contributions this cycle, according to the nonprofit Public Citizen. “Crypto has really flooded the campaign markets to defend an issue that really doesn’t have a whole lot of public appeal,” says Craig Holman, a campaign finance expert at Public Citizen. “The amount of money has gotten so outrageous.”
Leading the charge is the cryptocurrency exchange Coinbase, which pumped $50 million into a pro-crypto super PAC called Fairshake and other related entities. In its first election cycle, Fairshake has emerged as one of the biggest super PACs in the U.S., raising more than $200 million, according to an analysis of financial disclosures by OpenSecrets. Only a pro-Trump super PAC has raised more.
So far, Fairshake and its affiliated PACs have poured cash into dozens of congressional races this year, backing the winner in 36 of the first 42 it entered, from the Republican House Majority Whip Tom Emmer in Minnesota to Democratic Representative Yadira Caraveo of Colorado. The gusher of crypto cash has helped spur vague but positive statements from both major presidential candidates: Donald Trump has vowed to make America the “crypto capital of the planet,” while Kamala Harris pledged to “encourage innovative technologies like AI and digital assets.”
It’s not clear crypto’s big political push will amount to much after the election. At the top of the industry’s policy goals is the passage of a bill known as FIT21, which would establish a framework that turns over the regulation of most digital assets to the Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC), rather than the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), which under the Biden Administration has been led by crypto skeptic Gary Gensler. FIT21 passed the House in May, but has not received a vote in the Senate and faces an uncertain future in the next Congress. In October, a researcher for the investment bank TD Cowen wrote that they were “pessimistic” of any crypto legislation getting passed before January—and that crypto’s spending gambits in Senate races could backfire.
To crypto backers, the deep-pocketed campaign is a necessary step to grease the industry’s relationships in Washington at a moment when the industry’s energy and key businesses are moving overseas. To crypto skeptics and campaign-finance watchdogs, it underscores the industry’s habit of making big promises about reforming broken systems while replicating many of those system’s’ tactics. Either way, their polarizing approach to this election is fitting for an industry that thrives on risky wagers. “We’ve got Democrats that are upset. We have Republicans that are upset. But I think it’s really going to come down to whether the right bets were made or not,” says Kristin Smith, the CEO of the Blockchain Association, a D.C.-based lobbying group. “It’s a high-risk, high-reward situation.”
Just two years ago, crypto’s influence in politics had become a source of shame in DC. Bankman-Fried had whizzed around town, donating over $100 million to campaigns, talking up the technology’s potential to spur financial innovation and spread prosperity. But Bankman-Fried was arrested and hit with a slew of federal criminal charges, including violating campaign finance laws by making political contributions with customer money. As FTX collapsed, Bankman-Fried was withering about his dealings with Washington: “F— regulators. They make everything worse,” he wrote to a Vox journalist.
Bankman-Fried’s campaign-finance charge was dropped due to extradition complications, but he was eventually found guilty by a New York jury on eight other charges, including fraud, and sentenced to 25 years in prison. The scandal helped tank Bitcoin’s price, erasing the gains of the pandemic-era bull run. Crypto’s legislative agenda ground to a halt.
Industry execs thought the blowup could have positive long-term effects. “We had some measure of hope that for the terribleness of the FTX scandal and the reputational harm that it had brought to the industry writ large, it would be a catalyst to create clear federal rules,” Faryar Shirzad, chief policy officer of Coinbase, tells TIME. “But the opposite happened.” Senator Elizabeth Warren, a Massachusetts Democrat, vowed to build an “anti-crypto army.” Lawsuits filed against crypto companies by the SEC surged 183% in the six months after the FTX collapse, charging many companies with flouting securities laws. Gensler also attempted to block the creation of Bitcoin ETFs before losing that battle in court.
Read More: Inside Sam Bankman-Fried’s Attempted Conquest of Washington.
Gensler’s effort to crack down on crypto gave a beleaguered industry a target to coalesce around. Crypto fans argued that Gensler’s SEC was stifling innovation and forcing talent to move abroad. Many were particularly incensed by an SEC lawsuit against an obscure Utah crypto company called DEBT Box; a judge accused SEC lawyers of making “materially false and misleading representations” while attempting to freeze the firm’s assets. (A spokesperson for the SEC did not respond to a request for comment for this story.)
One of Gensler’s biggest targets was Coinbase, the leading crypto platform in the U.S. In 2023, the SEC accused Coinbase of operating an unregistered securities exchange. The move frustrated a company that promotes itself as a model of integrity in a scandal-plagued industry, especially when compared to big offshore competitors like FTX or Binance. “No company has suffered more in many ways from Mr. Gensler’s regulation by enforcement approach than Coinbase,” says Paul Grewal, chief legal officer at Coinbase. In June 2024, Coinbase sued the SEC in the hopes of gaining access to internal documents that might reveal the agency’s approach to crypto regulation.
In the meantime, crypto prices had ticked back up, with Bitcoin reaching a record high in March. And some industry leaders decided the best way to stymie Gensler’s effort would be to throw their support behind Republicans. Over the summer, venture capitalists like Marc Andreessen, Ben Horowitz, and the Winklevoss twins announced that they would support Trump. The Republican nominee—who had disparaged crypto over the years, saying that Bitcoin “seemed like a scam”—embraced the Bitcoin community’s entreaties. Trump’s vice presidential pick of J.D. Vance also heartened crypto lovers: Vance has long been a supporter of crypto on the grounds that it could help unshackle “free thinkers” from the “social justice mob.”
At the Bitcoin Conference in Nashville in July, Trump vowed to fire Gensler on “day one” of his presidency, bringing the crowd to its feet. (Gensler’s term isn’t up until 2026, and it’s unclear if Trump has the authority to fire an SEC chair.) A few months later, he and his sons announced the creation of their own cryptocurrency project, World Liberty Financial, and paid for an $1,000 bar tab with Bitcoin in New York.
As some crypto fans flocked to Trump, others felt throwing the industry’s full support behind the Republicans risked alienating Democrats who appeared interested in the technology’s potential. Ousting Gensler was a stopgap anyway; a successor could be equally tough on crypto. Bipartisan legislation that shifted the regulation of most assets away from the SEC became the goal.
To pass such a bill, industry strategists needed to persuade members of Congress from both parties, while ushering in a new crop of crypto-friendly politicians. Coinbase helped launch Fairshake, which was seeded by a few big donors, including the exchange Ripple and the VC firm Andreessen Horowitz. Fairshake gave cash to vocal crypto champions like New Jersey House Democrat Josh Gottheimer and North Carolina Republican Patrick McHenry, who helped steer FIT21 through the House Financial Services Committee.
Some tactics used by crypto PACs have been criticized for being opaque or counterproductive. In February, Fairshake spent $10 million on attack ads against the Senate campaign of California Democratic Representative Katie Porter. The ads did not mention crypto at all, but accused her of taking corporate money. (The Sacramento Bee assessed the claims as “mostly false.”) The campaign confused Porter, who had barely voiced any public opinions on crypto and says she’s generally receptive to its development. “Blockchain technology is important and has a lot of promise,” she says. Porter says that she didn’t hear from the industry before it decided to oppose her, and suspects the antipathy was a product of her alliance with Warren.
Read More: Could a Crypto App Save Struggling Restaurants?
Republicans, meanwhile, were incensed when a Fairshake-affliated PAC, Protect Progress, jumped into the Michigan Senate race to back Democrat Elissa Slotkin, even though her Republican opponent, Mike Rogers, has been vocal about his love for crypto. “Outside groups are trying to put Crypto in the hands of Democrats who have made it clear they will enforce heavy regulations and will be a disaster for the industry’s growth and innovation,” Rogers said in a statement to TIME.
In September, Politico reported that Fairshake’s moves were causing a “civil war” inside crypto. And in October, a researcher for TD Cowen cautioned that Fairshake’s campaign against Ohio Democrat Sherrod Brown could anger the party and lead them to delay any crypto legislation until 2026. “It’s an aggressive strategy, for sure,” says the Blockchain Association’s Kristen Smith. A representative for Fairshake did not respond to a request for comment.
The House passage of FIT21 was a bipartisan effort. While it sailed through with mostly Republican votes, powerful Democrats were part of the process; two Democrats familiar with the process say that former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi helped whip the votes. (A representative for Pelosi did not immediately respond to a request for comment). For some members, supporting FIT21 seemed like an easy tradeoff in a difficult election year. “I don’t think the constituents care,” says a Democratic policy staffer in the House whose boss voted against the bill. “The candidates in tough races are in a really tough spot, and part of their thinking is that they need the money and that crypto is not that big of a deal.”
Some industry insiders suspect that a number of lawmakers may be more interested in crypto as a source of funding than as a financial tool. In August, Chuck Schumer turned up to a crypto Zoom fundraiser for Harris, declaring his interest in passing crypto legislation by the end of the year. But a few weeks later, he released a letter outlining his legislative priorities for the fall, and crypto was not among them. Schumer’s office did not respond to a request for comment.
Crypto insiders worry that Harris may be taking a similar tack: of appeasement giving way to apathy. In a speech to New York donors in September, the Democratic presidential nominee, who had barely spoken about crypto to that point, vowed as President to “encourage innovative technologies like AI and digital assets, while protecting our consumers and investors.” Some crypto insiders hailed it as a sign that their pressure was working; others dismissed it as pre-election false flattery.
“We’ll certainly be looking for much more than kind words, but you have to start somewhere,” Grewal says of Harris. “These steps are almost always incremental and really do represent a remarkable shift, at least in initial approach and tone, from where Gary Gensler has been for the last three years.”
Coinbase’s other strategy to win over legislators is to rally their constituents. “When I’m talking to policymakers, they don’t care as much about what I’m saying,” Kara Calvert, Coinbase’s head of US policy, told the Philadelphia crowd in September. “They want to hear what you’re all saying.” The event was part of a swing-state bus tour organized by Stand With Crypto, which Coinbase created to mobilize “grassroots” support of crypto policy across the country. Critics accuse the coalition of being an astroturf campaign; the initial FEC report for the organization’s PAC, which endorses pro-crypto candidates, showed most of its cash coming from Coinbase executives, including Calvert and Shirzad. This year, Stand With Crypto has funded debate watch parties, an effort to urge presidential debate moderators to ask a question about crypto, and the bus tour. “There’s an active, vibrant community out there, and we want to give them tools and resources and ways that they can get more involved, raise their voices and make a real impact on shaping the conversation around crypto,” says Logan Dobson, a Republican consultant who became Stand With Crypto’s executive director this summer.
But getting crypto enthusiasts to care about politics can be challenging. At a watch party for the September Harris-Trump debate in Virginia, a group of about 40 people showed up to eat, drink, and ostensibly watch the debate. But about an hour in, virtually no one was watching, instead chatting about blockchain. “Getting into Bitcoin has actually made me feel that politics is less important,” says Sulaman Shah, the founder of the crypto mining company Terrapin Crypto Solutions. “No matter who wins, Bitcoin mining is still going to exist.”
The crowd appeared more politically motivated in Philadelphia a few weeks later. It was the second-to-last stop of the tour, which drew sizable crowds from Phoenix to Las Vegas to Milwaukee. Former Republican Senator Pat Toomey of Pennsylvania showed up to speak at the Philadelphia event, arguing that the crowd needed to “get behind the candidates who are on the right side of this issue, and the right side of history.” The idea resonated with Martin, the former NFL offensive tackle, who called himself a “lifelong Democrat” but said he planned to vote Republican this year because of Trump’s embrace of Bitcoin.
Industry boosters say voters like Martin could prove decisive in battleground states. A recent Harris poll found that 34% of respondents said they would consider a candidates’ crypto stance while voting. (That percentage doubled among crypto owners.) But the poll also indicated widespread skepticism of the industry persists. Just 21% of respondents felt that crypto was a good long-term investment.
Meanwhile, critics cast the industry’s investment in elections as a well-funded, centralized effort by a supposedly decentralized industry to disempower the regulator overseeing it. “The sole reason crypto is a hot-button topic in this election cycle is that crypto businesses are spending eye-popping sums to make themselves impossible to ignore,” wrote Rick Claypool, the author of a scathing report by the nonprofit organization Public Citizen.
Grewal of Coinbase makes no apologies for those sums. “Money in politics is a problem across industries and across issues and interest groups,” he tells TIME. “Unfortunately, that is the way that it works in American politics today, and the crypto industry is prepared to lend its voice, along with many other interest groups that are doing exactly the same thing.”
Smith, at the Blockchain Association, points out the amount that crypto companies are spending way more fighting lawsuits. “The political spend pales in comparison to what the lawyers are getting paid right now,” she says.
Austin Campbell, a professor at Columbia Business School and the founder of a crypto consultant company, says that while Coinbase’s campaign is in part self-serving, most crypto folks are grateful for their support and think they’re doing important work. “Coinbase is fighting an existential battle to even survive, because if we don’t get regulatory clarity in the United States within the next four years, they won’t be able to expand meaningfully internationally,” he says. “In general, the things Coinbase has supported benefit people beyond just Coinbase: it is thought of as an honest merchant.”
Coinbase has invested enormous amounts in convincing Washington as much. At a recent Stand With Crypto event in Washington, Coinbase CEO Brian Armstrong took the stage alongside Democratic congressman Wiley Nickel to address a crowded room that included crypto entrepreneurs in t-shirts, Republican staffers in suits, and music fans simply there to see the Chainsmokers. “We’re kind of the belle of the ball, the hot topic on everybody’s lips,” Armstrong crowed. “They want to know, ‘Is the crypto voter real? Are we going to turn out in November?’” In the back, most of the liquored-up crowd chattered on. But up front, the true believers roared back.
Andrew R. Chow’s book about crypto and Sam Bankman-Fried, Cryptomania, was published in August.
